


Breathe Easy

by Sunshinebunnie



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Alice is a professional sex worker, Anal Plugs, Asphyxiation, Bondage, CBT, Cock and Ball Torment, Double Penetration, F/M, Knife Play, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Smut, Vibrators, Voyeurism, breath play, dominatrix Alice, implied PTSD, use of sex toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshinebunnie/pseuds/Sunshinebunnie
Summary: FP Jones II, a 26 year-old in Army Special Operations, visits Riverdale's resident BDSM dungeon, the Maple Club, to cope with lingering effects of PTSD. When Penelope Blossom can't accommodate his full complement of kinks, she puts him in contact with Alice Smith, a local freelance dominatrix. Alice comes to FP's motel room and gives him a night of kinky thrills he won't soon forget.**Riverdale Kink Week 2019 entry**





	1. Welcome to the Maple Club

**Author's Note:**

> **TRIGGER WARNINGS** Just a gentle reminder, dear reader, this IS a KINK WEEK submission. This story deals with implied PTSD from FP's involvement in Army Special Forces. There are fairly graphic depictions of the following: breath play (asphyxiation), knife play, nipple play, double penetration, CBT (cock and ball torment), voyeurism, mutual masturbation, bondage, and use of sex toys (cock sleeve, wrist cuff, vibrator and anal plug). IF ANY OF THAT COULD BE A TRIGGER FOR YOU, PLEASE CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED. Additionally, although Alice is a sex worker in this story, everything that occurs between her and FP is SAFE AND CONSENSUAL. REMEMBER--ALWAYS BE SAFE, SANE, AND CONSENSUAL. COMMUNICATION IS KEY--ESPECIALLY ABOUT LIMITS. DON'T FORGET ABOUT AFTERCARE!!
> 
> **Because this is extra important, I want to be super clear about it--NEVER ENGAGE IN BREATH PLAY BY YOURSELF. *YOU*COULD*DIE! In this story, FP is engaging in breath play with a *TRAINED* professional dominatrix.**
> 
> *~*~*~*PSA concluded*~*~*~*
> 
> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story!! It really means the world to me. I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd so I take full ownership of any and all errors.
> 
> Like what you read? Comments/kudos/reblogs/fic recs are ALWAYS super appreciated!!
> 
> I promise I'm super nice! Come holler at me on Tumblr if you want. 😊😊😊😊 @sunshinebunnie

He hadn’t had any particular destination in mind when he’d loaded up his saddle bags in Toledo. At least, not consciously. It was only after FP had gone past Pittsburgh on I-80 East that he considered going to some place named “Riverdale” in Upstate New York. 

His unit had gotten two-and-a-half weeks of R and R before heading to their next rapid deployment combat theatre. When he’d first enlisted at eighteen, being in such a highly trained combat unit seemed so exciting. Then, he’d gotten his first up close kill. FP had spent twenty minutes puking behind a building later that night--bile spattering over the caked dirt. Six years later though, he couldn’t remember his body count—he refused to keep score like some men in his unit like Hal or Tall Boy. Killing no longer made him sick either, just cold. 

The coldness was what was driving him to Riverdale. 

For years, he’d been able to leave it behind—still be FP Jones II when he came home—but not this time. ( _ Not the past three times, if he was honest. _ ) Gladys had finally had enough, told him to deal with his shit or leave. So he left. 

He’d never gotten on spectacularly well with Hal Cooper. There was something about him that rubbed him the wrong way—like the actual  _ glee _ he seemed to take from killing. As much as he didn’t like the man personally though, he still recognized Hal was a man that seemed to... _ know _ people. The unit had been stationed in Germany once, and a group of them decided to go to Amsterdam for the weekend. Hal spent the entire train ride wondering how the sex clubs would compare to the BDSM dungeon in his hometown: a small place in New York called “Riverdale.” 

The first time he’d looked up the website for the Maple Club, he’d been surprised. Nothing about the website was like he’d expected. He’d thought it was going to look like a Marilyn Manson music video, and instead the website was all muted reds and oranges with a discreet menu of “options” listed under a heading called _ Tastings _ . Some of the services seemed self-explanatory like “The Slap and Tickle,” or “The Golden Shower Special.” Others he’d had to look up, thankful that he didn’t have to worry about explaining to anyone why things like “Vore” and “Yiffing” were showing up in his search history. 

Every few months, when his unit had some down time, he’d find himself navigating back to the Maple Club’s website, imagining what he’d request if he ever built up the courage to go check it out. Eventually, he’d caved, pulling Hal aside one night before he’d left for his latest R and R, and asked, “So, how does the Maple Club work?”

Hal’s eyes had glittered with a sick joy that immediately made FP regret the question. “Ask for Penelope. Tell her you’re a friend of mine,” he’d said smugly, “She’ll make sure you’re  _ well _ taken care of.” 

FP got to Riverdale about eleven hours after he’d left Ohio, pulling his bike into the parking lot of a 24 hour diner with a brightly lit up neon sign proclaiming it was “Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe.” A middle-aged man in a pristine white soda jerk outfit stood at the counter slowly wiping it down with a rag, stopping only to wordlessly bring FP a cup of hot coffee as he sat down on one of the backless red stools. 

“Fix you up a hamburger?” the man said as FP slowly sipped his piping hot drink.

“No, thank you, sir” he replied, the full weariness of his ride beginning to settle into his bones. “Name of a nearby motel would be much appreciated though,” he added. 

The older man looked at him thoughtfully for a minute before he said, “If you just want cheap and clean, son, the Shady Palm Motel on the Northside isn’t too far from here.” 

FP drained the last of his cup before setting it back down on its ceramic plate with a small clatter. “Much obliged,” he added sincerely as he stood up tossing a couple singles down on the counter for the coffee. 

* * *

The clerk at the front desk gave FP a bored look as he asked tiredly, “Daily or hourly?”

He raised a sardonic eyebrow in return as he dryly replied, “Daily rate works just fine.” 

“$15.67 a night Sunday to Thursday, then it goes to $21.17 Friday and Saturday. $50 upfront—cash or card—for incidentals. Another $50 cash--for me--if you don’t want anyone to know you were here.” 

FP waited a minute to see if the greasy-looking nineteen year old behind the concierge desk had any other side deals to offer him before he carefully pulled two rumpled twenties and a slightly torn ten dollar bill out of his front pocket, laying them on the counter as he reached into his jacket to grab his wallet. The clerk’s eyes glittered with an all too comfortable avarice, and FP couldn’t deny the small thrill he took at watching the young man’s shoulders slump poutily when he silently handed over his license. There was a monotonous  _ tick-tick-tick _ from the circular wall clock hanging dutifully above a “No Smoking” sign that had obviously been ignored for years, if the dingy tar stains were anything to go by, that was increasingly beginning to annoy him as he watched the clerk hand copy the information on his driver’s license into a large navy blue ledger in painfully cramped writing. 

By the time he was finally registered and given the key to his room, FP distantly noted that the wall clock read 5:18. For a brief second he thought about asking the clerk whether that was A.M. or P.M., but then he realized how little the answer mattered. He’d been on the move for nearly nineteen hours straight; regardless of whether it was morning or evening, his first order of business was to crash on a bed, anything after that could wait. 

It wasn’t always easy for him to tell his dreams from reality. When he was hunkered down in the mud, his hands got so cold he couldn’t feel his fingertips, but even in his dreams, he felt the cold. The heat in the desert was just as unforgiving, leaving him in a cold sweat whether he was awake or asleep. His sleep was so restless from fighting nameless phantoms who’d been dead for years that when he finally awoke, his lower leg was completely wrapped up in the thin polyester blend top sheet he’d numbly crawled under when he’d gotten into his room. 

Sitting up slowly, FP blearily squinted over at the black and brown plastic and faux wood digital clock radio sitting on the desk next to the television. Given how poorly he slept, it took him a minute to find for the red dot on the clock to tell if the 7:09 staring back at him was in the morning or at night. He was only somewhat relieved to see that he had been asleep for over twelve hours despite how unrested he felt. Rubbing his hand over his face, he could feel the beginnings of facial scruff against his palm, and he sighed: he needed to clean up before he did anything else. 

As he got up from the bed and pulled off his boxers, he couldn’t help but notice the sickly sweet smell of sweat that seemed to cling to his skin, and he wrinkled his nose. ‘Definitely need a shower,’ he thought grimly. 

He caught sight of himself in the three-quarter length mirror hanging beside the bureau as he walked the short distance from the bed to the bathroom. His stride barely slowed as he caught his reflection. FP kept himself in mission-ready shape, but he didn’t have the same bulky frame as some other guys in his unit. A small part of him wondered if whatever woman he found at the Maple Club would like his body until the more cynical part piped up, ‘So long as you pay up, she’ll like you.’ 

The water pressure in the shower was surprisingly good, and he relished the steady stream of water against his back. Turning around, he raised his face toward the water, tipping his head back to let the last of the shampoo rinse out of his hair. ‘If all I get out of this trip is this shower, I don’t think I’d consider the time wasted,’ he thought in passing, still unsure about whether he  _ wanted  _ to visit the Maple Club. As a star athlete in high school, FP had never run into too much trouble getting dates. Even after he’d joined the Army, he hadn’t run into too many problems either between his uniform and his naturally rakish charm. It was a large part of why he felt such a heavy pit weighing on his stomach: the fact that he needed to  _ pay _ a woman to help him chase away the creeping, ever-present coldness seemed like a lazy cop-out. He thought back to the menu of services provided by the club though...and how he’d reacted to the thought of some of them. There was no way he could bring himself to ask Gladys, or any of the other women he’d dated over the years for that matter, to do some of the things he wanted to try. In some cases, he felt it was probably best to explore his desires with a professional first, while in others, it was more about his shame over potentially explaining to a girlfriend  _ why _ he wanted to try some of the things that intrigued him. 

He finished washing off the last of the soap residue from his torso right as the water began to turn cold, and he quickly wrung out his washcloth before turning off the shower. The scrap of terry cloth he grabbed off the wire rack above the toilet was clean, but had little else to recommend it. FP’s tanned skin glowed with a reddish hue everywhere the roughness of the towel created a rug burn from rubbing himself down to dry off faster. He only hoped his artificially ruddy complexion would return to its normal color sooner rather than later since he didn’t want whoever he met at the Maple Club to automatically assume ( _ correctly _ ) that he was more than a little embarrassed to be there. 

Throwing on his clothes took no time at all once he was done drying off, and he indulged his inner vanity for a full minute as he made sure his grey long sleeve thermal shirt and his black jeans were  _ just so _ before he clipped the chain attached to his wallet around one of his belt loops and put on his black leather jacket. Taking one last deep breath, he opened up the Internet browser on his phone so he could look up the correct address to feed into Google maps. Given the cagey avariciousness exhibited by the desk clerk when he’d checked in, the last thing FP wanted to do was ask him how to find the Maple Club. It was that same sense of distrust that kept him from texting Hal Cooper from half a world away to ask for directions. FP could stomach Hal broadly knowing that he’d taken an interest in the club, but he shuddered to think of what the other man would do if he ever found out the Jones man had actually gone to use its services. 

When he’d pulled his bike up in front of the building, he was surprised to see the address from the Maple Club’s website appeared to come back to a significantly more upscale hotel than the Shady Palms. As he walked confidently through the lobby, he could sense the disdainful look he received from the mid-shift supervisor at the check-in desk even without looking at the man. He’d become hardened to such nose-in-the-air attitudes over the years, fully cognizant of the fact that whenever he was out of uniform, he gave off more of a “biker gang” vibe than a “decorated active-duty military servicemember” feeling. He contented himself with the knowledge that none of those holier-than-thou types would likely last a day doing his job, and yet were always the most fawning whenever they saw him in his dress greens out in public. The hypocrisy left him nearly as cold as his kill count. 

Stepping off the elevator on the fourth floor, he walked purposefully down the hall, keeping an eye out for the tell-tale maple leaf that was supposed to be affixed to the club’s door. He finally spied it when he was three-quarters of the way down the hallway, a warm red light seeping out from underneath the door providing further confirmation that it was the correct entrance. FP hesitated for a moment. ‘I can still back down and regroup,’ he thought, giving himself one last chance to change his mind before he rapped his knuckles against the hard cherry red wooden door. 

Right as he was on the verge of turning around, the door abruptly swung open and a dishevelled-looking man in his early fifties pushed past him as he staggered out into the hall. A stern, perfectly coiffed red-headed woman loomed in the doorway and said, “This is your only warning, Daryl! If you try to have the charges for our services reversed on your credit card again because of  _ fraud _ ,” her mouth curled into an impressive sneer, “I will personally make sure that everyone in Riverdale  _ including your wife _ is fully aware of the extent of your...special...proclivities.” FP watched as the man turned an odd shade of ashy green almost as if he was equally consumed by overwhelming terror and an irrepressible urge to vomit at the same time. If the man’s reaction was anything to go off, it appeared that the formidable woman wasn’t in the habit of making idle threats--a valuable piece of intel that FP made sure to stash away in the back of his mind should he ever need it. 

“It’s unfortunate that you had to see that,” the woman said suddenly drawing his attention to her face. 

Standing up close to the woman, FP couldn’t shake the feeling that he  _ knew _ her from somewhere. Her cunning brown eyes studied him like a lioness waiting to take down an injured animal, and it finally hit him why he recognized her. 

“You’re Penelope,” he said with a steady surety that even surprised him, although he was careful not to give away his thoughts.

Her eyes immediately cut to suspicious slits as she said a little caustically, “I don’t know you.”

FP nodded. He could understand her position--he was confident that police harassment was not an infrequent occurrence in such a small town--and the use of narks was probably all too common. “I know Hal Cooper,” he said carefully, “He’s talked about you frequently.” 

Penelope preened even as she continued to watch him warily. “Of course he did,” she said airily, “Hal likes to talk. It’s part of why I find gagging him immediately to be a must.” 

He forced his mind not to take Penelope’s bait. Having seen Hal stumble around in a naked drunken stupor on more than one occasion, the last thing he wanted was to envision him wearing a ball gag as he did it. 

She continued to watch him with hawkish intent as he forced his face to stay neutral while his brain tried to assault him with increasingly more unwanted images of Hal  _ en flagrante _ . Right as he was about to shake his head to dislodge the profane imagery taking up space in his imagination, Penelope gave him a wry smile as she turned to go back inside with a cheeky, “Coming?” FP barely managed to suppress his cringe at her double entendre as he dutifully followed her through the doorway into the Maple Club. 

The foyer of the suite the Maple Club appeared to be based out of was as tasteful as the club’s website, if in a bit of an Old West bordello kind of way. There was extra plush furniture strewn about, which was mostly upholstered in crushed red velvet. Lamps in various heights decorated the common areas like there’d been a fire sale at a local lighting wholesaler. The soft red glow he’d seen from underneath the door appeared to be created by the generous presence of tasseled red lampshades, which gave the space even more of a caught-out-of-time feel. 

Walking further into the room, he realized that Penelope had taken her place behind a large maple wood desk upon which sat two equally large leather-bound ledgers--one red, the other green. “Sit,” she said with an imperious wave of her hand toward a pair of low-backed armchairs outfitted in supple black leather with meticulously polished brass grommets decorating the outer edges. As he made his way over toward the chairs, he once again got the feeling of being under a microscope—as if a sniper had trained its sights on him—and he desperately tried not to give away his discomfort at being so closely scrutinized. 

Once he was seated, Penelope handed him a smaller, board-bound menu and a highlighter saying, “Mark off the dishes you’d like as part of your tasting today, then I’ll see what the kitchen can do to accommodate your appetite.” His hand hesitated for a brief moment as he took the menu from her mentally trying to accept what he was actually about to do. Opening up the menu, he saw many of the descriptions matched what he’d seen on the website; however, unlike the online version, the one he was holding gave short explanations for the more obscure tastes. His eyes scanned quickly over the paper as he highlighted his choices, pausing briefly as he debated his final selection. ‘It’s the whole reason I came here,’ he thought icily as he ran the highlighter over his last choice before handing back the menu.

Penelope opened the menu with an arched eyebrow, her eyes immediately dropping to the bottom of the list. “Voyeurism,” she said with a bored tone as she marked it off in the green ledger. 

“Nipple play, and knifeplay,” she added with a little more interest.

FP tried not to squirm as her eyes glittered.

“CBT,” she said elongating each letter with how intrigued she was with his choice. 

Her eyes finally reached the top of the menu. “Bondage,” she paused as she realized she skipped over something.

“Breath play,” FP added quietly. 

Penelope studied him silently before saying, “My, my. You  _ are _ interesting.” She made a small notation in the green ledger before opening the red ledger and running a perfectly manicured nail down a column of names. Her nail stopped at a name and tapped on it for a second, her face scrunched up in a pinched moue. She glanced up at him, then at the green book before flipping to another page in the red ledger. Her forehead stayed in a deep crease as she looked at him again before giving a small shake of her head, and turning to another page in the red book.

FP fought the urge to tap his foot to burn off the nervous energy coursing through his body as he watched the severe-looking woman flip one page after another in her red book. With each page that she looked at and rejected, he got closer to telling her to forget the whole thing. Eventually, she let out a deep sigh, and clasped her hands in front of her as she carefully studied him. “Are you negotiable on any of the dishes you’re interested in trying this evening?” she asked slowly.

From the measured way she asked the question, he knew there must be a specific “dish” she was concerned about. He arched an eyebrow at her, and she sighed again.

Her eyes dropped to the red ledger again before she fixed her gaze on his face. “My normal breath play practitioner is out of town at the moment. Since it’s a rather....exotic...taste, I don’t keep more than one on my normal payroll,” she said flatly. FP started to get out of his chair, only for Penelope to say firmly, “I wasn’t finished.” He paused halfway out of the chair waiting for her to continue. She closed her eyes as a harsh gust of breath escaped through her nose. “I  _ do _ , however, have a contractor I occasionally outsource work to. If you’re willing to wait, I can call her and see if she’s able to fit you in,” she finished.

“And if she can?” he prodded.

“Then I give her your phone number and you’ll work out the details with her directly,” she replied blandly.

FP thought about the woman’s offer. If he wanted to, he could still back out without looking like a coward--all he had to do was say he didn’t want to work with this “contractor.” The more he thought about it though, the more he began to feel the coldness seep back into his fingertips. “Call her,” he replied firmly.


	2. Alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Chapter 1 (Chapters broken up for ease of readability.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNINGS** Just a gentle reminder, dear reader, this IS a KINK WEEK submission. This story deals with implied PTSD from FP's involvement in Army Special Forces. There are fairly graphic depictions of the following: breath play (asphyxiation), knife play, nipple play, double penetration, CBT (cock and ball torment), voyeurism, mutual masturbation, bondage, and use of sex toys (cock sleeve, wrist cuff, vibrator and anal plug). IF ANY OF THAT COULD BE A TRIGGER FOR YOU, PLEASE CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED. Additionally, although Alice is a sex worker in this story, everything that occurs between her and FP is SAFE AND CONSENSUAL. REMEMBER--ALWAYS BE SAFE, SANE, AND CONSENSUAL. COMMUNICATION IS KEY--ESPECIALLY ABOUT LIMITS. DON'T FORGET ABOUT AFTERCARE!!
> 
> **Because this is extra important, I want to be super clear about it--NEVER ENGAGE IN BREATH PLAY BY YOURSELF. *YOU*COULD*DIE! In this story, FP is engaging in breath play with a *TRAINED* professional dominatrix.**
> 
> *~*~*~*PSA concluded*~*~*~*
> 
> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story!! It really means the world to me. I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd so I take full ownership of any and all errors.
> 
> Like what you read? Comments/kudos/reblogs/fic recs are ALWAYS super appreciated!!
> 
> I promise I'm super nice! Come holler at me on Tumblr if you want. 😊😊😊😊 @sunshinebunnie

It was a little after two in the morning when he heard the knock on his door. Having to wait brought out the same anxiousness he felt whenever he was waiting to jump out of an airplane—he was pretty confident he would be ok, but he still just wanted it to be over. He was dying for a drink to steady his nerves, but the woman on the phone had been adamant: she would not participate in breathe play with him if he’d been drinking  _ at all _ . 

There was a slightly more impatient rapping against his door. 

He quickly covered the distance to the door taking one final deep breath as he twisted the worn brass knob. For a moment, as more of the woman came into view, he felt there must’ve been a mistake. Instead of someone in a black PVC catsuit like he expected, there was a woman about his age with shoulder-length soft wavy blonde hair standing outside his door in a dusky rose V-neck sweater and a pair of fitted dark wash jeans. Her hands readjusted the strap on her sizable overnight bag as her blue eyes looked at him cautiously.

“Forsythe?” she asked, her tongue curling around his name with surprising ease. 

“FP,” he responded so instinctively that her eyes widened a little in embarrassment as her gaze quickly flicked to the number affixed to his door. 

The woman shifted her weight as she squeezed the strap on her bag. “I’m sorry,” she started to say, “I seem to have the wrong room,” as she turned to look at the nearly empty parking lot.

Before the woman completely turned around, he found his voice enough to say, “No one calls me Forsythe. FP is fine.” She spun slowly around again to look at him. Her skepticism was palpable. “You’re Penelope’s...friend?” he asked carefully. 

Whatever uncertainty she’d had about being in the right place seemed to instantly bleed away as she openly appraised him with her eyes. He couldn’t help the swell of pride that settled into his chest as a small, nearly feral smile crept across her face. 

“Alice,” she said sticking her hand toward him. “It’s good to meet you.” 

“Same,” he said, pleasantly surprised by the firmness of her grip. 

They stood lingering in the doorway for several minutes until Alice tugged lightly on his hand. “Maybe we should take this inside?” she prompted easily. FP gave her a sheepish grin that he’d been using to win over women since he was in first grade as he loosened his grasp on her fingers and stepped aside to let her into his room. He closed the door behind her with a quiet  _ click _ , watching as she took stock of her surroundings. Moving a little further to her left, she set her bag down with a soft  _ thunk _ as she pulled out one of the cloth and wooden chairs tucked neatly against a beat-up looking round wooden table. As she moved to sit down, Alice waved a hand broadly in the direction of the other chair, silently inviting FP to join her. He remained immobile for a second before flipping the chair around with a lightning fast quickness that caused Alice’s eyebrows to shoot up in surprise, doing nothing to stop a smug smile from breaking out across his face at having caught her off-guard. 

FP effortlessly straddled the chair, draping his arms across the back like he was settling in for a mission briefing. Alice watched him blandly, and he found himself sitting up a little straighter under her scrutiny. Seemingly satisfied by his change in demeanor, she gave him a small smile before she reached over to unzip a side pocket on her bag. His shoulders tensed up for a minute as he waited to see what she was reaching for, eventually relaxing when she brought out a thin pale beige 5” x 7” planner. Her fingers nimbly pulled a black Bic pen out of the wire spiral binding before she deftly removed the plastic cap with her teeth. 

Flipping briskly to a page with a few notes already written at the top in flowing curlicue script handwriting, her blue eyes studied him intently. He noticed a soft  _ tap-tap-tap _ as she absently drummed the clear plastic pen casing against the table top. His eyes flicked down toward her hand as he tracked the source of the sound, and he found himself captivated by her long, delicate fingers. It wasn’t until he heard her clear her throat with a small cough that he realized he’d been staring. 

There was something in her look--a sense that seemed caught between amusement and chastisement--that made him oddly feel like he’d been doing something naughty, watching her hand the way he had been. It was an undoubtedly odd sensation for him. He forced himself to hold Alice’s gaze as she continued dissecting him. A heavy tension began to settle into his chest when the corner of her mouth quirked up a little and she said, “Penelope explained that you haven’t done this before…”

Alice’s voice lilted upward the slightest bit at the end leaving FP momentarily confused as to whether she was asking him a question or making a statement. When she kept looking at him, expectation increasingly written across her features, he deduced that she did in fact mean for it to be a question. He briefly nodded his head as he replied, “Correct. Is that going to be a problem?”

The pen tapping abruptly ceased as she processed his answer. She sat watching him in contemplative silence for several increasingly longer moments. Readjusting herself on her seat, it was her turn to sit up a little straighter as she folded her hands primly over her notebook. The ramrod straightness of her back along with the mildly pursed set of her lips suddenly gave him flashbacks of a senior who’d attended the Sisters of Quiet Mercy convent school who he’d gleefully corrupted for several months after football season had ended back before he graduated high school. FP found his mind temporarily wandering as he wondered whether she happened to have a Catholic school uniform in her bag. 

His attention snapped back to her face as she cleared her throat again. 

“As I was saying,” she said in a bit of a nonplussed tone, “some of what Penelope said you were interested in is not what I would normally recommend for people who are... _ new _ ...to this lifestyle.”

“You mean breathe play,” he said beginning to get irritated that he’d been shut down twice in one day over the one reason he’d even come to Riverdale in the first place. 

“Yes,” Alice said succinctly.

“Ma’am,” FP said, silently reminding himself to remain civil, “I’ve been with a special operations unit in the Army for the past eight years. While I may be new to this  _ lifestyle _ , as you put it, make no mistake, I’m  _ well aware _ of what I’m looking for.”

Something he couldn’t quite place flickered in the back of her eyes for the briefest second before Alice quickly snuffed it out. The pinched expression on her face returned with an even deeper crease in her forehead as she mentally argued with herself over his declaration. Eventually, she gave a small shake of her head, blonde hair swishing softly behind her like overgrown grass in a soft breeze, and his hands reflexively clenched around the back of the chair he was straddling as he waited for her to walk out. 

“Under the circumstances,” Alice began slowly, “I believe I can make an exception.” FP’s hands slowly eased a little as it began sinking in that she wasn’t going to immediately walk out the door. He forced himself to focus as her voice said firmly, “If I’m going to do this, you must agree to two conditions. The first is a standard safety protocol. I’ll give you a ball to hold in your hand. If I see the ball drop  _ for any reason _ , I will immediately stop what I’m doing. Understood?”

“Agreed,” FP said seriously.

Alice nodded her head. “Good,” she replied. “Second, you agree to use the red-yellow-green system. Periodically throughout the scene, I’ll check in with you and ask you to tell me where you’re at: red, yellow, or green. Green means you’re completely comfortable  _ both physically and mentally _ with what I’m doing to you. Yellow means I’m approaching a boundary of what you’re ok with. If you say  _ red _ , again, I’ll  _ immediately _ stop what I’m doing. Do you accept?”

FP tried not to scoff. She was acting as though he was made of glass and that she knew just which stones to throw to break him. Despite her whole “whip me, spank me, make me hurt” vibe, he felt confident that she wasn’t going to break through his ever-present coldness with just one session. In spite of his skepticism of the need for her stoplight-inspired discomfort system, he said solemnly, “Agreed.” 

She stared at him for another minute as she appeared to debate something with herself. Eventually, she shook her head as if to dislodge a troublesome thought before she said, “Strip down and get on the bed. I’m going to step into the bathroom, but I’ll be out in a minute.” 

FP stripped while Alice busied herself in the bathroom. As he got comfortable on the bed like she’d told him, he found himself wondering how she got into “the lifestyle” given how buttoned up she seemed. All those thoughts vanished as he looked toward the bathroom and saw Alice pushing the door open wider with her travel bag. “Buttoned up” was the last description that came to mind as he drank in the wide expanse of creamy skin left exposed by her black satin and lace bustier. His eyes drifted down the flat plane of her stomach to the black and red garter belt hugging her hips. He swallowed thickly as he noticed the gauzy black thigh-high stockings encasing her legs--small satin bows with delicate white pearl seed beads decorating the bands around her thighs--drawing his attention to the apex of her legs. 

Alice stalked over toward the bed, her overnight bag swinging menacingly from her hand. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, FP,” she said with a slight burr in her voice as she got closer to him. “You seem to think this is for you,” she added with a pointed look at his erect cock proudly bobbing in front of him. She put her bag at the foot of the queen-size bed deliberately leaning over to unzip it so that he had a prime view of her tight ass. He licked his lips even as he unconsciously raised his hand to touch her pale skin. 

“Did I say you could touch me?” Alice said darkly, her eyes glittering with a lust he wasn’t expecting as she turned her head over her shoulder to look at him.

“No,” he croaked, praying she didn’t notice the precum that started seeping from his throbbing cock.

She nodded as she echoed, “No.” Standing up, her eyes drifted from his cock to his face and back. A feral smile crept over her lips. “It seems you need some help in order to be good,” she said with a deceptive gentleness. 

Pulling her hand slowly out of her bag, FP’s attention was immediately drawn to what appeared to be a black leather lace-up gauntlet...for a child. His brow furrowed in confusion. 

Alice patiently watched him as his brain struggled to make sense of the item she was casually dangling from its laces. After several long seconds of silence passed between them, she said evenly, “This is a cock sleeve. I take it you’ve never used one before?” FP silently shook his head. She nodded in understanding. “It’s meant to keep you hard by restricting the flow of blood out of your penis after you’re sufficiently erect. Since you’re already dripping cum like a horny teenager, I want to put this on you to make sure you don’t orgasm until I allow it,” she explained. His throat went dry at the thought even as his cock began to ache. He was so caught up in imagining what it would feel like to have to stay hard--potentially for hours without relief--that he almost missed it when she asked, “Are you alright with me using this on you, FP?”

“Yes,” he answered with a quiet growl that surprised him. 

Inching closer to him, she reached out her free hand and wrapped it firmly around the base of his cock. Her fingers barely managed to close around his thick girth. A quiet appreciative murmur snuck past her lips as she took a minute to gauge the weight of him against the palm of her hand. FP beamed. He knew he had an impressive cock, but he wasn’t so modest that he didn’t enjoy the ego boost whenever a woman saw him in his glory for the first time. 

All of a sudden, he felt her squeeze his cock firmly with her soft hand, and a deep groan of need escaped his lips. She hummed in approval at his response. “So eager for me,” she whispered half to herself, “Too used to getting off easily though,” she added as she stroked him with a maddening slowness. He groaned at the thought of her implied threat. 

“I’m going to put this cock sleeve on you now. Are you still ok with that?” she asked softly.

“Green,” he answered confidently.

She gave him a short nod then proceeded to loosen up the lacing so that she could slide the sleeve over his impressive length more easily. The black leather was buttery soft against his sensitive skin and warmer than he expected. Her fingers deftly tightened the lacing on the cock sleeve, each tug pulling the black casing firmer against his rigid penis. “How does that feel? It should be snug without pinching,” she explained.

FP closed his eyes and focused all of his attention on his cock. The sleeve was securely wrapped around him, and he could feel his body pulsating against the supple leather. His penis bobbed heavily under its own weight causing the excess lacing to tickle his balls. He hissed a little under his breath as the surprising stimulation caused his cock to swell even further, straining against the restrictive device encasing him. The lacing skimmed against his balls again; it took him a second to realize Alice mistook his hissing for discomfort. “Green!” he groaned loudly. 

A second later, he felt the lacing being moved aside, only to be replaced with the softness of Alice’s hand as she palmed his testicles. The sensation was maddening, and he struggled with the urge to touch her the same way, to see if she was getting as turned on as he was. Without warning, Alice gave his balls a small squeeze as she lightly tugged on them. FP saw stars as the combined sensations of the pressure from her hand and the slight pain of her tugging on him sent electricity straight to his cock. “Again,” he cried when he felt her loosen her grip on him.

Alice dragged her fingernails over his balls taking an extra long second to toy with his taint, watching intently as he repressed a shiver even as his skin broke out in goosebumps. “How do you ask  _ nicely _ ?” she warned.

“ _ Please _ ,” he groaned. “Again  _ please _ .” 

“Much better,” she said approvingly. Her nails stopped slowly scraping against his skin only to be replaced by her delicate hand cupping him again. When she squeezed his balls again, her grip was slightly tighter, and he could feel the urge to cum slowly building. 

She was still squeezing him when her blonde hair suddenly tickled the side of his face. He moved to turn his face toward hers when he abruptly felt a sharp tug on his balls, and he immediately snapped his face forward as he let out a sharp breath through his nose. “I can feel your balls tightening,” Alice purred against his ear. “You must be so eager to cum,” she taunted softly. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” he breathed out just loudly enough for her to hear.

Alice softly palmed his balls again, the motion causing the lacing from the cock sleeve to gently dance against his sensitive skin. He reflexively bucked his hips toward her seeking additional stimulation. Suddenly, Alice’s warm hand was gone and he felt his balls prickle from the unexpected exposure to the air conditioning that had kicked in without him noticing. He whined at the lack of sensation causing Alice to quickly lean back from where she’d been hovering next to his face. FP was on the verge of letting out another whine when his eyes settled on her again and his mind went blank. 

He had been so distracted by his own lust-fueled haze that he hadn’t realized she’d hopped up on to the table, and was perched on the edge with her legs resting on the two chairs they’d been sitting on earlier. She was leaning back on her left hand while her right hand toyed absently with the exposed tops of her breasts. His eyes were torn between tracking the lazy movements of her fingers along the edge of her bustier and staring at the obvious damp patch on the crotch of her red satin underwear. FP licked his lips. 

Her fingers dipped under the delicate lace trim as she slid her hand toward her nipple, letting out a satisfied “ _ mmmm _ ” as she lightly stimulated the erect peak. She rarely got so turned on by her clients--usually having to resort to lube and sex toys whenever she was working with someone who liked to watch her get off. It made for a welcome change. Alice tweaked her nipple and she heard FP let out a strangled groan. “Do you like that, FP?” she said with a surprising amount of breathiness in her voice. “Do you like watching as I play with myself? Do you want to watch me fuck my pussy until I cum?”

FP groaned again as he felt his stiffened cock strain against the confines of the leather cock sleeve. “Please, Alice,” he begged, unconcerned with how pathetically needy he was sure he sounded. “I need to see you cum.” 

She slipped her hand out of her bustier making a point of roughly squeezing her left breast before she coasted her fingers down her torso and under the waistband of her underwear. The moist heat emanating from her cunt was undeniable as soon as she slid underneath the satin barrier. Her pussy lips were puffy from the increased blood flow of her arousal, and she had to slip her right index and middle fingers between them one at a time because of the extra snugness. Despite how wet she was, it didn’t take her fingertips long to locate the hardened nub of her clit. Alice’s hips rocked forward sharply as she forcefully rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves, using the extra pressure to compensate for the lack of friction caused by how aroused FP was making her. 

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so wet,” Alice said, surprising herself with her unintentional candor. She was thankful her eyes had already drifted shut in pleasure because she was certain she would’ve snapped them closed in embarrassment at her lack of professionalism otherwise. 

A moment later, she heard a muffled grunt, and her eyes shot open only to find FP running his hand over his leather encased cock. Her fingers immediately stilled as her jaw clenched, her molars grinding against each other as she channeled her own agitation at being interrupted. “Were you given permission to touch yourself?” she said with a dark threat underlying her even tone. 

An odd mixture of defiance and guilt bled into FP’s voice as he quietly admitted “ _ No _ ,” and Alice was unsurprised when the sound made her pussy throb even harder. Withdrawing her fingers from her cunt torturously slowly, her knees snapped together as she slipped off the edge of the table and stalked back over to the bed. Once she was close enough, she waved her still glistening fingers in front of his face, letting the tangy smell of her arousal waft into his nose. She grinned in perverse glee as his pupils blew even wider--turning his already chocolatey brown eyes nearly black with lust. 

“It’s a shame you can’t follow directions, FP,” she taunted, “because now, this is as close as you’re going to get to my tight, juicy cunt.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he took a deep gulp of air, fruitlessly praying that her words were merely an idle threat. 

“What are you going to do?” he croaked, his throat bone dry in response to her words.

Her eyes glittered with a gleeful menace that he wished didn’t get him as hard as it did. She inched backwards toward her travel bag, letting her snail-like pacing ratchet up his uncertainty over what was going to happen next. Blue eyes captured brown-black ones as her hands sightlessly rooted around in her bag, the small smile on her lips stretching wider as she found what she was looking for. 

“Well,” she said, “since you’ve proven you can’t be trusted,” a heavy jingling sound came from the bag as she began raising her arms, “I think I just need to remove your ability to act on temptation.” By the time the last syllable she’d said died in the air, she’d removed her hand from her bag only for FP to find his attention glued to a pair of sturdy-looking leather manacles dangling from her grasp. 

Even though he had listed bondage among his list of things he wanted to try at the Maple Club, now that he was faced with the prospect of actually being restrained his pulse was racing so fast he thought he might pass out. He realized his panic must’ve shown on his face because Alice started to lower the restraints back into the bag before he found his voice enough to weakly say, “ _ Yellow _ .” It was clear to him that his tentative willingness caught her off guard because she didn’t move at all except to raise her eyebrows questioningly. Taking a minute to collect himself, he closed his eyes, took in a deep breath through his nose, and swallowed a couple times to lubricate his throat before he said more confidently, “Yellow.” 

Alice studied him carefully for a moment before she said, “I’ll just restrain one hand for now. Do you feel comfortable with that?” 

FP released his breath slowly as he replied, “Green.” 

With a brief nod, she pulled one of the thick leather cuffs back out of the bag and held it up for his inspection. A substantial silver buckle glinted in the room’s low lighting connecting the two ends of the double stitched leather cuff. While he was studying the padded leather, Alice began idly twirling a long nylon “tail” attached to a metal ring on the cuff, and his eyes widened. 

“What’s  _ that _ for?” he asked skeptically as he nodded his head toward the nylon rope in her right hand. Alice’s hand stilled, causing the rope to suddenly drop toward the ground in mid-arc as she casually glanced over toward where he was looking. 

“This is how I can still restrain you even though I’m only using one cuff,” she explained. “After I put the cuff on you, I’m going to run the rope through one of the fabric handles on the side of the mattress and secure it with an anchor bend knot. You’ll feel some slack, but you won’t be able to move your hand more than a couple inches from where you’re secured.”

He held her gaze as she spoke, giving a short nod of understanding when she finished speaking. She unbuckled the cuff, the heavy metal  _ clinking _ as the ends of the leather fell open. Walking slowly over to his right side, her slim fingers reached for his wrist, grasping it in a surprisingly firm grip as she carefully wrapped the soft leather around his warm skin. Alice secured the latch, leaving enough room so that the ends of the cuff didn’t pinch his skin, but not so much room that his wrist would chafe if he tugged too hard against the restraint. Watching him closely for any signs that he wasn’t mentally comfortable with being cuffed before she tied him to the bed, she asked “Good?”

FP ran his free hand over the wrist restraint, taking a minute to appreciate the surprisingly heavy weight of the leather. He grasped the nylon rope with his free hand and held it steady while he tugged his secured hand. The metal buckle jingled a little, but otherwise stayed soundly fastened. “Still green,” he eventually said.

It was Alice’s turn to nod in understanding before she said, “Ok. I’m going to tie you down now.” She took the nylon rope back from him before she lifted up the edge of the fitted sheet looking for the inch wide mattress handle she’d found on other mattresses at the Shady Palms. 

The strap she was looking for was a quarter of the way down from the top of the mattress. She secured the restraint in such a way that FP was forced to keep his hand near his head to avoid his elbow locking up. There was enough slack in the rope that the metallic buckle jingled when he did a test pull for her, but not so much that he could raise his hand any higher than the top of his ear. Her clear blue eyes sought out his own when he tried tugging even harder on his tied-down wrist, and he gave her a small grin. “Just impressed is all,” he added, his voice tinged with a roughness he wasn’t expecting to hear. 

From anyone else, she was confident that his words would’ve come across as an insult to her professional skill, but when FP said it, his voice was suffused with such a reverential charm beneath his lust that she couldn’t help but grace him with a brilliant smile as she preened from the compliment. His own eyes sparkled in return, and she felt safe in her assessment that his desire had finally managed to override whatever trepidation he had about being tied down. Alice backed slowly away from him again, drinking in the sight of him naked and spreadeagled on the bed. For a second, she found herself wishing that he  _ wasn’t _ a client. She mentally shook her head to dislodge the dangerous thought before it had a chance to take further root. 

“Now, where was I?” she mused once she reached the foot of the bed. “Oh! That’s right!” she added in an overly bright voice, “You were going to watch while I got to enjoy  _ multiple _ orgasms.”

A full body shiver ran through him at the thought of watching her fuck herself to completion over and over, and he bit back a curse as his aching cock pressed against the restrictive confines of the cock sleeve. He’d been hard for what felt like hours already and he could only imagine how much worse he was going to feel if he had to watch her masturbate without being able to touch himself. There was a flicker of movement at the foot of the bed, and his attention was drawn from his leather-clad cock to the woman controlling his ability to cum. His balls tightened painfully at what he saw. While he’d been temporarily preoccupied with his own nagging arousal, Alice had stripped down so that she was sitting back on the table wearing just her thigh-highs and a pair of black four inch glossy patent stilettos. A sliver of moonlight shone through a small crack in the privacy curtains glinting off a small silver barbell bisecting her left nipple. FP growled. 

“ _ God, I want to fuck you, Alice _ ,” he said, the faintest echo of a demand lancing through his words. He emphasized his desire with a sharp tug on his restrained hand. 

Alice just smiled triumphantly. “Good,” she said, sitting up a little straighter as she played with her nipple piercing. She moaned loudly as she tweaked her extra sensitive peak and felt her pussy get even wetter. “ _ I can’t believe how horny you’re making me, FP _ ,” she said breathily as her free hand worked its way down the crease of her thigh before lightly teasing the smooth outer lips of her cunt. 

The buckle on his arm restraint jingled loudly. Opening her eyes, which had drifted shut as she’d skirted the palm of her hand over her leg, she stared into FP’s hungry brown ones as she easily slipped one, and then two, fingers into her dripping pussy. The inner walls of her cunt reflexively clamped down on the intruders and she moaned again. She bit her lip sharply as she pressed her thumb against the hard slippery nub of her clit causing her hips to jerk forward from the sensation—displaying her naked glistening cunt for his appraisal.

“ _ Alice _ ,” he begged shamelessly as he pulled against his restraint, “ _ let me touch you. Taste you. Something. _ ” 

A crystalline laugh filled the room. “Uh-uh,” she tutted. “You like  _ to watch _ , remember? And watch you will.” She pulled lightly on her silver barbell while rubbing her clit harder. Her orgasm was getting ready to quickly crest over her, and a thought hit her. 

Alice hadn’t lied about how turned on she was—she just neglected to mention that she’d  _ never  _ had a client get her so horny. She thought back to the items in her bag and decided she was going to give FP an  _ extra special  _ show to remember. Pulling her fingers out of her pussy, she displayed them to him—making sure he got a good look at how wet her arousal had left them—before she stuck her coated index and middle fingers in her mouth, sucking her clean tangy essence off them. A loud feral growl filled the room and she just smirked around her fingers. 

“ _ I need to fuck you, Alice, _ ” FP said darkly as his cock bobbed heavily in front of him. 

“No,” she said just as firmly after pulling her fingers out of her mouth with a wet pop, “you  _ need _ to watch me cum  _ as I think about how it would feel to have your cock inside me. _ ” Another dark growl came from the bed as his eyes turned completely black with lust. She snaked her hand back between her legs rubbing roughly at her slippery clit. Alice moaned loudly as her nerves felt like liquid fire was coursing through her body. Her fingers tweaked her peaked nipple and she felt her cunt throb. 

“Work your clit harder for me,” FP said with a noticeable burr in his voice. 

Alice moaned louder. The pressure in her pussy continued building as she worked her fingertips faster over the hardened nub at the apex of her thighs. Her breath began coming in short pants as the crest of her orgasm got closer and closer. She clenched her abs as her hips rocked harder against her hand. Increasingly high-pitched squeaks and breathy moans escaped her lips until she finally cried, “ _ Oh, FP _ !” her body going rigid for a moment as her orgasm overtook her. 

FP could feel the cum churning in his balls, his cock aching painfully from his need to orgasm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen something as hot as Alice fingerbanging herself for him. Although he’d seen more than his fair share of porn on his numerous deployments, there was something infinitely more erotic about watching a hot woman fuck herself  _ knowing _ she was thinking about him as she did it. “Alice, please,” he begged, “please, I need to cum.” 

Her fingers twitched restlessly against her clit for a second as she slid bonelessly off the table. With each step she took back toward the bed, her wobbly legs felt a little sturdier until she finally felt back to normal as she straddled his shins as she climbed on to the bed. “So,” she purred softly enough that FP strained forward to hear her, tugging lightly on his restrained wrist, “you think you deserve to cum?”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice taking on the edge of a whine. 

She twisted to the side and grabbed a thin, razor sharp, four inch stiletto blade out of her bag, carefully removing the blade guard so as not to accidentally nick herself. Before she had a chance to put the safety guard back in her bag though, FP surprised her by saying, “Red,” with a firmness she wasn’t expecting. 

Instantly, he had her undivided attention as she resheathed the blade, and replaced it in her bag. “Did you change your mind about the knifeplay?” she asked him seriously, her laser-like focus glued to his face searching for any sign of discomfort. 

“It’s not that,” he started to say. Before he had a chance to finish his thought though, Alice jumped back in and prompted, “Is it the restraint? Is it too much?” He shook his head. Sensing she was about to unleash another barrage of misguided questions, he rushed on, “No, I just want you to use  _ my _ knife. That’s all.”

Alice cocked her head thoughtfully to the side as she studied him, weighing the sincerity of his words. “Really?” she prodded skeptically, “Because it’s perfectly fine if you’ve changed your mind. You’re under no obligation to go through with the knifeplay scene if you’re feeling in any way uncomfortable.”

FP gave her such a dry look, she half expected her skin to feel cracked and papery. Instead, he added in a droll voice, “Just get the damn field knife out of my bag.”

Her lips temporarily pursed up in a look of disapproval at his impertinence, but she held her tongue with a silent reminder that Dominance and submission games weren’t what he wanted from her. Swinging her leg back over his shins, she made sure that he got a tantalizing view of her naked ass and exposed wet pussy before she walked the short distance to where he’d left his small bag near the closet. Once she reached the bag, she glanced over her shoulder to ask which compartment it was in, smirking against her collarbone at the look of hungry concentration etched into FP’s face as he blatantly stared at her tight ass. Oh, he was  _ definitely _ going to appreciate the special treat she had planned for him. 

“Field knife?” she said, her voice taking on a small amount of brusqueness at her reminder. 

His eyes slowly drifted to her face. A small crinkle appeared near the corner of his eyes as he unapologetically grinned at her, fully aware that she’d caught him staring. Alice fought the urge to let out a girlish giggle at the boyishly charming move she was certain he’d used his whole life. FP grinned wider before nodding his head toward his bag. “Should be right on top,” he said a little smugly. 

Turning her attention back to his bag with a small eye roll, she immediately knew what he’d been talking about. Resting on top of his neatly rolled up clothing carefully packed into the bag was a thick knife handle sticking out of a reenforced nylon sheath with what appeared to be adjustable leg straps on it. She carefully slid the blade out. The five-inch long steel was an inch and a half wide with serrated teeth along one edge. Looking at the smooth cutting edge, she could tell it’d been freshly sharpened. Alice squeezed her thighs together as her pussy throbbed at the thought of running the blade over his skin.

Gripping the handle firmly in her hand, she slowly turned to face him as she gently tapped the flat of the blade against the outside of her thigh. FP licked his lips with a lewd slowness as his eyes stayed glued to the even back and forth rhythm of the swinging blade. Alice felt a small trickle of arousal seep down the inside of her upper leg as she found herself wondering, not for the first time, what it would feel like to have FP’s tongue buried in her pussy. She dragged the cold metal up her thigh, over her stomach, and up the ladder of her ribs. Her nipples tightened at the thought that the smallest twitch of her wrist would likely cause her to nick herself on the razor sharp edge. 

FP held his breath as he watched Alice run his field knife over her body with the intimacy of a lover’s caress. He was positive he’d never seen anything quite as erotic in his life. A part of him wished he was the one dragging the blade over her delicate pale skin, but an equally large part of him wanted to know if he’d feel as hard if she ran the sharpened metal over  _ his _ skin. “Run the blade over me,” he said, his voice cracking a little with his request. 

“Like this?” she taunted as she looked at him with uncontained lust while lightly running the serrated edge of the knife against her sensitized nipple. 

He swallowed thickly as his tongue suddenly felt two sizes too large for his mouth. “Yes,” he eventually managed to croak out, his need bleeding shamelessly into the one syallable. Alice stalked closer to him, and he felt his heartbeat speed up in anticipation. 

“Or did you mean like  _ this _ ?” she teased, her voice dropping half an octave lower once she was close enough to run the serrated teeth carefully along his balls. 

Every muscle in his body tensed up at the feel of the cool metal against his extremely delicate skin. He wasn’t afraid of having a blade so close to his balls having gotten into the habit of manscaping after his first deployment, but he’d never had a piece of razor sharp metal so close to his testicles when  _ he _ wasn’t the one wielding it. The inherent danger of his situation made his balls ache fiercely. “ _ Alice _ …” he breathed out desperately. 

“What, FP?” she cooed, running the tip of the blade over the leather sleeve encasing his cock. He shivered as he felt the extra pressure of the knife against his cock through the protective layer of the leather. 

“Please, I need to cum, Alice. My balls feel like they’re going to burst,” he begged.

She scraped the serrated edge along the defined ridges of his abs, making sure not to apply so much pressure as to draw blood. Her cunt tingled as she watched his stomach muscles ripple in response to the feel of the metal against his tawny skin. She dragged the tip of the knife down the center of his abs back toward his pelvis, her blue eyes holding his brown ones the entire time. 

“Why should I let you cum? Haven’t you ever heard the phrase  _ ladies first _ , FP?” she taunted in a surprisingly breathy purr. 

“I can make you cum, Alice,” he promised desperately, acutely aware that she was using the tip of the blade to toy with the lacing on the cock sleeve.

“ _ I have no doubt _ ,” she answered in a dark growl of her own that made his cock throb insistently. “Before  _ you _ cum though, it’s only fair that I get the rest of my orgasms,” she added, her voice drifting off. Suddenly, she leaned across his torso and carefully placed his field knife on the bedside table. Sitting upright again, she twisted back around to where her bag was quickly pulling out four things. When she turned around again and FP was able to see what she’d brought out, his eyes went wide. 

“What’re you planning to do with  _ that _ ?” he said in a mildly strangled voice, unable to tear his eyes away from the medium-sized teal green silicone butt plug with a large rectangular handle affixed to the bottom of a wide base. 

Alice just grinned for a second before replying, “Since you’ve gotten me  _ so _ turned on tonight, FP, I want you to have an  _ extra _ special memory of me.” FP’s eyebrows arched comically high toward his hairline as he struggled to figure out how a Dominatrix bringing out a butt plug was somehow going to give him any  _ good _ memories; however, in the spirit of the evening though, he said, “Yellow,” in a tentative voice, taking no pains to disguise his skepticism. 

A tinkling laugh washed over him as Alice took one of the other items--a small bottle of water-based lubricant--and generously coated the sex toy. FP felt his ass reflexively clench at the prospect of her using the plug on him. Before he had a chance to upgrade his initial “yellow” to a “red” though, he watched as she smeared a dollop of lubricant on her index and middle fingers before twisting around so that she could transfer the lube from her fingers to her ass. Suddenly, he found himself completely incapable of any kind of thought as his brain slowly began to realize exactly what she was planning to do with the teal colored toy. He kept watching--transfixed--as she used her fingers to gently loosen her asshole before gripping the butt plug and slowly working it inside herself with a soft hum of satisfaction. 

He continued to stare reverently at her for several long seconds as he tried to find anything to say that would adequately capture his appreciation of her gesture. Eventually, he settled on “ _ wow _ …” his voice drifting off as she adjusted her position on the bed so he could better see the last two items she’d pulled out of her bag. One was a small, bright red handball, and the other was a large, ocean blue vibrator. He swallowed audibly. 

Alice studied him for a minute before eventually offering him the red ball. His hand hovered near hers for a brief second of hesitation, not quite reaching for the ball, before he abruptly grabbed the hard rubber toy with his free hand. She gave him a small nod. “Since this is your first time, I’m only going to use my hand and I won’t use my full strength,” Alice explained patiently. “The stoplight colors still apply, and the ball is a secondary safety measure, particularly since I don’t know what your limits are yet. As I explained earlier, you need to grip the ball firmly because if it drops out of your hand for any reason, I’ll immediately stop. Understood?” she said.

“Understood,” he answered firmly, his fingers curling securely around the red ball. Once he’d gotten himself resituated on the bed, Alice knelt perpendicular to his body so that she could more comfortably wrap her hand around FP’s throat. She was pleasantly surprised to find that the delicate skin on his throat was soft against her palm despite the early beginnings of a scruffy five o’clock shadow. As she closed her fingers infinitesimally tighter against his neck, she deftly managed to turn the vibrator on one handed. 

FP’s pulse jumped against her fingers for a second when he first heard the low  _ buzzing _ sound fill the room. After a couple minutes though, the rapid staccato beat returned to its steadier bass line. She allowed him to remain like that for a little bit before she nonchalantly moved the battery-operated sex toy to the base of his balls. His reaction was instantaneous as he tried to jerk forward only to find himself trapped by his wrist cuff and the steady pressure of her hand. His adrenaline leaked out of him in a slightly muffled moan of desire. 

“_That’s_ _right_,” Alice coaxed, “I bet your cock must be practically numb with need, isn’t it? But I know you felt that.” All FP could do was moan in response tickling her palm as the vibrations came out of his throat and up her arm. She dragged the vibrator up his chest to his erect nipples, methodically running the rumbling head of the toy over each pointy nub as he writhed under her tightening grasp from the overstimulation. 

Loosening her fingers, she waited for some of the red mottling in his face to begin dissipating before she moved the vibrator to the sopping wet entrance of her pussy. She raised herself up a little higher on her knees to give herself more room to slowly work the toy inside her already stretched channel. It had been a while since she’d been doubly penetrated and she took extra time to get used to the sensation of being  _ so _ full. As she worked the vibrator into her eager cunt a quarter of an inch at a time, she made sure to keep her breathing even and to intersperse deep relaxing breaths every so often so that none of her muscles would unintentionally lock up around either the vibrator or the anal plug. Alice smiled to herself as she took one particularly deep breath realizing as she did that she’d been subconsciously stroking FP’s throat to help stay relaxed. 

Once she managed to fit six vibrating inches of ocean blue silicone in her cunt, she stopped. Tightening her grip on his throat again, she moaned, “ _ God, I’m so full, FP. I want you to imagine  _ you’re  _ splitting me open right now. That it’s your aching cock in my pussy, or fucking my ass. _ ” 

FP groaned as much as he could with a compressed windpipe before raspily whispering, “I wish I could fuck you, Alice. I would make you cum so hard on my cock.” 

She moaned louder while simultaneously increasing the speed of the vibrator. Her hips jerked from the increased stimulation and she reflexively gripped FP’s throat even tighter. He let out a small choked cough from the sudden increase in pressure. The sound caught her attention and she relaxed her fingers again. 

Alice could feel her orgasm rushing to overcome her. Her breathing turned into deep guttural moans as she rocked her hips harder against the vibrator lodged in her cunt. “I’m  _ so close _ ,” she whined as she rotated her hips a little trying to chase the looming crest of endorphins. 

“ _ Cum _ ,” FP commanded with a feral growl.

The dark rumble in his voice made her pussy instinctively contract around the vibrator. Tightening her pussy caused the vibrator to shift just enough that it managed to suddenly stimulate her G-spot. She let out a small  _ ungh _ before her hips started wildly convulsing. The hand around his throat slipped down his chest until she found herself clutching at his toned pec trying to ride out the intensest orgasm she’d felt in forever. 

She continued to gently rock her hips as her cunt continued periodically spasming around her sex toy. All Alice wanted to do was take a nap, her body completely spent from its exertions, but she knew she couldn’t. As she slowly worked the vibrator out of her pussy, the stimulation from the twisting combined with her still fluttering pussy walls caused her to have one final gentle orgasm that she acknowledged with a soft “ _ mmmmm _ ” of satisfaction. Shutting the toy off with a small flick of her wrist, she laid it next to her on the bed. She reached over to loosen the lacing on the cock sleeve until she was able to open the leather wide enough to remove it without touching his pulsing red cock, and FP struggled not to cum as soon as the restraint was removed. “You have such a beautiful, thick cock,” Alice said approvingly. “I think it’s about time you show me how hard you can cum.” 

FP’s cock twitched in anticipation after being overly stimulated for what seemed like hours as Alice leaned over his torso to remove his wrist restraint as well. He sat up and rubbed his wrist for a minute to relieve some of the mild rug burn he’d given himself from his last forceful tug as she’d masturbated in front of him. His eyes drifted to her ass where she was carefully easing out the butt plug, and his balls ached for him to be buried inside her. The plug came out with a quiet  _ pfft _ and the unexpected sound brought a genuine smile to his face as he wrapped his hand firmly around his cock. A soft blush suffused her pale skin and she ducked her face behind her hair as she laid the plug next to the vibrator. “Don’t,” he said as he ran his hand teasingly over his cock, not wanting to rush his orgasm. “It’s nice to know you’re human,” he said with a warm smile in his voice. 

Alice turned her face back to him, a small smile of her own hovering around the corners of her lips. His even rhythmic strokes over his cock sped up as he took stock of how her dusky pink areolas stood out against the warm strawberries-and-cream color of her heavy breasts. He groaned as he squeezed the sensitive head of his cock, precum smearing on the inside of his palm. His mouth watered as her twin buds hardened into tempting rose-colored peaks while she stared at the rock hard erection in his fist. “Touch your breasts,” he said in a husky voice as he squeezed the base of his aching cock, not quite achieving the same snugness as the leather restraint Alice made him wear.

Without a word, Alice ran the edges of her hands under her full breasts accentuating her ample endowment. Another deep groan escaped FP’s lips as he started to work his hand faster. Making sure she held his gaze, she brought the two fingers she’d used to get herself off back to her mouth. After getting them sufficiently wet, she ran the dampened pads of her fingers over her unpierced nipple as she lightly toyed with the barbell in her other peak with her dry hand. Her eyelids drifted shut as her hips subtly rocked forward in time with her stimulation. The beatific look of pleasure on her face was too much for FP. His grip tightened as he worked his fist faster and faster over his throbbing flesh. A minute later he let loose an inarticulate sound of ecstasy that was somewhere between a high-pitched grunt and the sound of accidentally choking on a drink of water as his own hips jerked wildly, milky white spurts of cum shooting out of his cock with decreasing velocity leaving him covered in sticky ropes of cum from the top of his collarbone to just above the base of his testicles.

He collapsed back heavily against the pillows on the bed with an “ _ oof _ ” followed shortly by an “ _ oww _ ” as an orgasm-induced headache started to form directly behind his left eye. The mattress shifted underneath him and he watched with increasingly sleepy eye lids as Alice sprang from the bed and walked into the bathroom. A moment later, he heard water running in the sink. After several minutes, she walked back out of the other room holding a damp grayish-white hand towel balled up in her fist. He struggled not to succumb to the siren call of sleep as she proffered the rag in his direction. 

The wash cloth was warm, and he appreciated the small gesture of extra thought as he wiped away the copious amounts of his cum as best he could with the small scrap of threadbare terry cloth. “Thanks,” he said gratefully as he put the dirty towel on the bedside table—torso clean enough that he wasn’t as worried about inadvertently gluing himself to the sheets as he slept. He closed his eyes again with a small wince as the throbbing in his head intensified.

“I’ve got some aspirin in my bag, if you want,” Alice offered kindly. 

“Aspirin sounds great,” FP replied, not bothering to open his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Alice reached into a small zip pocket on the front of her bag before pulling out a small travel tube of aspirin. She quickly twisted off the safety cap and shook two white pills into her open palm. Reaching over, she dropped them one at a time into his semi-open hand. Before she had a chance to ask if he wanted something to wash them down with, he threw both pills into his mouth with a quick toss of his hand and swallowed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she reached over and began gently massaging FP’s temples. 

“Mmmm,” he hummed contently, “you really don’t have to do that.”

She smiled broadly knowing he couldn’t see her. “It’s called  _ after care _ , and it’s critical to do after a scene finishes. It helps bring you down safely in case there are any residual effects.”

“R’sid’l ‘fects?” FP mumbled as her magic fingers lulled him toward sleep. 

“Like knocking loose underlying trauma,” she said softly.

He hummed in semi-conscious agreement before murmuring quietly to himself, “S’warm. S’nice t’ fi’n’ly be warm.” Alice didn’t even have a chance to get up from the bed before FP started quietly snoring. 

* * *

FP awoke feeling more refreshed than he had in months. Although it killed him to give Hal Cooper credit for anything, the bastard had been right—a trip to the Maple Club  _ had _ been exactly what he needed. He didn’t bother looking around for Alice; he’d immediately noticed that the clothing she’d discarded by the table had vanished as soon as he’d sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Crawling out of bed, he slowly ambled into the bathroom determined to get another relaxing shower in before he got back on the road—getting to completely wash the pungent odor of cum off his body was an added bonus. 

By the time he got done in the bathroom, he had about twenty minutes to get dressed and pack before he had to check out. 

He was done in five. 

Sweeping his eyes around the room one last time to make sure he didn’t forget anything, he noticed a white piece of paper next to the tv. Clearing the distance in two strides, he picked up the paper and immediately noticed Alice had left him a brusque note: 

_ FP, you have my number. Don’t lose it. Alice.  _

Grinning widely, he pulled his phone out of his jacket and found his most recent call, quickly saving the New York number under her name. 

Coming to Riverdale hadn’t been a wasted trip at all.


End file.
